


if morning's echo says we've sinned, it was what I wanted now

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Gabriel is Hell's Bicycle, Groping, Lingerie, Mildly Dubious Consent, Open Marriage, Open Relationships, Other, Prostate Massage, Prostate Milking, Spanking, Vaginal Sex, titties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21975640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Just call Gabriel angel of the morning.
Relationships: Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Gabriel/Hastur (Good Omens), Gabriel/Ligur (Good Omens), Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens), some Dagon/Gabriel, some Eric/Gabriel
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

Gabriel was not in his office crying by himself for the third time that week. It was the fourth time that week, and anyway, it was nobody’s business what he did behind closed doors. At least, it would have been nobody’s business, if Hastur hadn’t slammed his door open and burst in like an angry blonde tornado. She had tears streaming down her face, and her hair was even messier than usual, if that were even possible.

“Hastur, you can’t just barge into my office whenever you feel like it.”

Hastur crossed her arms, “It’s not my fault all your dumb doors look the same. And also, fuck you.”

She crossed over to his desk and sat down on top of it. “What’s your problem, anyway?” she said, the usual harshness of her voice belied by tears. “Bubblegum in your feathers? A smudge on your halo? Chipped a nail?”

Gabriel sat back in his chair, glaring up at the brazen demon who was showing no signs of leaving. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

Hastur hiccuped and sobbed, rubbing at her eyes with the tattered sleeve of her coat.

“What, then?” she asked, nudging at his knee with the toe of her shoe. “What’s got your wings in a twist?”

“What’s wrong with _you_ ,” Gabriel turned the question around. He wasn’t really crying anymore, being distracted by Hastur’s antics.

“ _Michael_ ,” she said, starting to sob a little harder. “She thinks she’s so fucking...above me. Like I’m some _nobody_. I’m a Duke of Hell, bless it.”

“Well...shouldn’t you be telling your husband all of this?” Gabriel pointed out. He had his own problems to deal with.

“Me n’ Ligur ain’t attached at the hip, much as everyone thinks we are, and besides, they’re working together, and Michael likes him, of course she does, everyone likes my husband, and I’m the odd duck out, and here I am, tryin’ not to make trouble for once,” here she paused to sniffle and wipe at her face again, “and, and, it shouldn’t be so hard for an angel t’ be a little sympathetic, ‘specially when you’re cryin’ too, don’t try to deny it, your violet eyes are red around the rims, and I saw when I walked in.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, because I’m a lowly demon, and you’re a high and mighty archangel?”

“No, because you’re _married_ ,” Gabriel blurted out, and scowled. “So you don’t know what it’s like to be rejected.”

“Um, don’t pardon my French, because excuse the fucking moi? You think I don’t know what it’s like to be rejected? Me? One of the _Fallen_?”

“Not like that,” Gabriel snapped. “I mean romantically. Sexually.”

“Oh.” Hastur was quiet for a few moments, contemplating this, still sniffling from time to time.

Finally she said, “But who would reject you? You’re a hot piece of ass.”

“Don’t patronize me, demon.”

“No, really,” Hastur said. “I’d bang you. All those muscles. Pretty face to go with ‘em. I’d bounce on your dick.”

“Really?” Gabriel was looking at her suspiciously. “You’re not just messing with me?”

“Of course not. If I wanted to mess with you I’d superglue your stapler to the ceiling. Don’t look up.” She quickly straddled his lap before he could do so.

Hastur’s face was a bit blotchy and red from crying, but she gave him a sly grin and started undoing the buttons on her coat. 

“Tits are small but they’re perky,” she said, uncovering them. "You can play with 'em, if you want."

Gabriel let his broad hands hover over Hastur's chest. She was tall, but like this, it was apparent how much smaller her frame was. She really was a slight little thing, even accounting for the softness in her belly. 

"I won't break, archangel," she snapped, pushing her chest against Gabriel's hands. "But if you don't like what you see, we can stop. No hard feelings."

Gabriel frowned. "No, I, I like your body."

"Oh, you sweet-talker," Hastur said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Hastur's tits were soft under his hands. He'd not exactly thought about it before, but her skin was a lot more delicate than what he would have guessed. He thumbed at her nipples, and that made Hastur gasp, and squirm on his lap.

These are very nice," he said, feeling like he should let her know that he did appreciate getting to touch, very much. "Can I use my mouth?"

"Yeah," Hastur practically moaned, "Course you can."

Gabriel leaned forward and hesitantly pressed an open mouthed kiss just above one breast, and then moved lower, moving to her nipple, which was a dark color, not exactly pink, but not brown either. He sucked it into his mouth, and felt her shiver and grab at his hair with both hands.

"Gabriel…'m sensitive…"

He pulled off and looked up at her eyes. "You want me to stop?"

"No, but go easy on me. I'm already soaking."

"Soaking?"

"Wet. You know? Or, or were you expecting something else?" She shifted in his lap, as if she were considering bolting out the door.

"What's wrong?" His hands gravitated back to her chest, cupping her breasts gently, even though they were dwarfed by his large hands. 

"Wanna make sure you're okay with the, uh, situation down there."

"In Hell?"

"No, dick for brains. In my panties. You know. I've got a--a cunt."

"Okay." Gabriel looked at her quizzically. 

"Well, okay then," Hastur huffed. "Suck my other tit? Feels lopsided now."

Gabriel grinned, and leaned forward to taste her again, only this time he sucked at her lightly, letting up a little when she wriggled against his growing erection.

"Someone's enjoying himself," she cooed, grinding down on him. 

"Mmm," Gabriel hummed, thoroughly exploring every inch of her modest chest with his tongue. It was a nice chest, he hadn’t been lying about that. Soft skin, with the odd bump here and there. 

"Lemme get the rest of my kit off," Hastur said after a while, her hands going to the fastenings on her trousers.

She stood up to toe off her shoes and shove everything down to the floor, standing in front of Gabriel expectantly. 

"Well?" Hastur said.

"Yes?" Gabriel was looking at a trail of warts that led from her hip to just above her knee.

"Gonna show me the goods sometime today?" She grabbed his tie and gave it a tug. "Let me see what you're hiding under that suit."

"I'm not hiding," Gabriel protested. "This is entirely appropriate office attire."

"Right. That really makes me wet, how appropriate you are," Hastur scoffed, wrapping her arms around herself. "You can back out now, if you want. Now that you've seen it all, I mean."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Ain't exactly a centerfold, now am I?"

"Centerfold?" Gabriel tugged his tie from his shirt and set it on his desk. "I don't know what that is."

Hastur sat up on the desk, watching Gabriel undo all of his shirt buttons. "Of course you don't."

"I don't want to back out," Gabriel said, exposing his broad chest. "Unless you want to stop?"

"Don't be an idiot," Hastur said, reaching out to trail her fragile hands down his hairless pecs and stomach. "Come on, take off the rest."

"All right."

Gabriel was soon stepping out of his trousers. Hastur couldn't help the way her breath hitched in her throat at seeing the outline of his large cock stuffed into panties that barely covered him.

"Ohhh, pet. Can I touch?" Hastur was barely holding back her excitement. She'd often wondered about what Gabriel was packing. (To be perfectly honest, her daydreams consisted of a number of elaborate fantasies of angels stripping off in front of her. But she'd never thought it might actually happen.)

"Sure." He leaned into her eager hands, and she tugged his panties down a little, exposing him.

“I didn’t know you were walking around with this all day,” she said dreamily, going to her knees. She wrapped a hand around him and leaned forward, lapping at the head of his cock with her tongue.

“Hastur, what--what are you doing?”

“Having some fun. Not gonna choke on this, if that’s what you’re wondering. Bless it, you’re big.”

She licked him again, and jacked him a little with her hand, only enough to tease. It was nice, but Gabriel wanted to get his hands back on her; he’d really liked getting to touch.

“Come back up here,” he said, with as much authority as he could muster while his dick was in her hands.

“Why?” she asked, but she was already rising to her feet. “What do you wanna do to me, hmm?”

Gabriel easily guided her backwards so she was sitting on his desk again, this time naked as could be, and spread her legs apart. Hastur seemed to be holding her breath, and she gripped the edge of the desk so that her knuckles were nearly white.

“Okay?”

“Course I am.” But she was looking at him with something that spoke of nervousness. Gabriel’s hands were still on her lovely thighs. They were a bit curvier than the rest of her, and the skin was just as soft, even considering the trail of warts. They suited her, somehow, and Gabriel had a hard time imagining what she would look like without them. Gabriel hadn’t known Hastur before she fell.

She was blonde between her legs, though it was only a few sparse hairs. He let one hand trail down between her legs, searching between her lips and slipping a finger in.

“Fuck.” Hastur closed her legs around his hand and whimpered, squeezing.

“You’re really wet,” Gabriel said, impressed. “And warm.”

“Fucking told you, didn’t I? Fuck...this ain’t enough. Gonna get your cock in me, yeah?”

“Sure, if you open your legs again.”

“Fuck you, I’m trying, okay? Wasn’t expecting all this.” Hastur bit her lip and spread her thighs apart for him, leaning her hands back on the desk.

“What were you expecting?” Gabriel slowly slid his finger out, enjoying the way she moaned as he did so. His cock was fully erect, and he wasn’t sure which one of them had done it, but the desk was now at the perfect height for him to line up with the opening of her cunt.

“Dunno.” Hastur scratched at the surface of the desk with her nails as Gabriel began pushing into her. “Never thought I’d get a shot at you.”

Gabriel paused as he got all the way into her. She enveloped him in smooth warmth, and she wasn’t what he would have expected, either.

She looped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. It was a little dirty--he wouldn’t have thought anything less of her--but it was deep, and skilled, and made him impossibly harder. He began to move inside of her, short thrusts that made her moan into his mouth and bite at his lips.

“Gabriel,” she gasped. “I need to come.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“Sit us down on your chair. I’m gonna ride you.”

Gabriel lifted her easily and did as he was told, sitting down with her still on his dick. In this position, he was even deeper inside of her, and his own eyes went wide as she began to move on top of him, fucking herself on his cock.

“Play with my tits again,” she said breathlessly. She was getting him entirely soaked, her fluids leaking down onto his thighs. He loved it. And he loved handling and kissing at her small breasts while she bounced on him, listening to her moan and whine as she ground down fully onto his cock.

Hastur was loud when she came, stilling her movements to claw desperately at his shoulders as he felt her shudder around him.

“You gotta, too,” she said, kissing him on the lips. “Always wanted to have an angel come inside me.”

Her words were almost enough to make him do what she wanted, but instead he lifted her back up onto the desk and thrust inside of her until he found his own release, which was nice, but almost anticlimactic considering how wonderful everything else had been up until that point.

He kissed her again, then. Her wig had come loose, and was flopped into her face. He tugged it back out of her eyes for her, and kissed her forehead.

“Of course an angel is a sap afterwards,” Hastur groused, but there was no bite in her words, and she kissed him on his cheek.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabriel had enjoyed his post orgasmic haze for awhile, holding onto Hastur, until his brain came back online, and he started to think. Or rather, he started to worry.

"Hastur?" He said, shifting in her arms. "What--what will Ligur think of all this?"

"Hmm?"

"Your husband. What will he think of us, uh, engaging intimately?"

"Fucking, you mean." Hastur yawned and stretched. Then she gave Gabriel a wicked smile. "And, yeah. He's gonna kill you."

"Hastur!" Gabriel disentangled himself completely from her so he could stand up and get dressed. "Then why--why did you let me--?"

Hastur gazed at him, seeming put out that he was covering up now. "You don't want to go another round?"

"Not if it makes me an adulterer!" Gabriel exclaimed, wrapping his scarf around himself so tightly that he had to undo it only a moment later.

"Technically I would be the adulterer," Hastur giggled. She stood up as well and walked over to him, running her hands along his arms. "You're just along for the ride, handsome."

"We--we have to tell Ligur. It's the right thing to do." Gabriel tried to say this with more confidence than he felt.

Hastur shrugged. She snapped her fingers and was instantly dressed again. "All right, it's your funeral."

__

Hastur could barely stop the skip in her step as she and Gabriel went to 'confess' to her husband. The whole situation was too entertaining. 

She'd assumed, wrongly, that Gabriel had known what most of hell knew at this point. That she and Ligur, while madly in love and devoted to each other, had an open relationship. Of course, she'd always planned on telling Ligur about her dalliance with Gabriel, but this way was far more delightful. She wouldn't be a denizen of hell if she didn't enjoy seeing someone squirm, now would she?

She glanced at the determined flat line of Gabriel's mouth as he marched towards his impending doom. He was a sucker, but at least he was pretty.

They found Ligur and Michael pouring over some blueprints in one of the conference rooms. Standing a little too close for comfort, in Hastur's opinion. Of course, being in the same room was too close, according to Hastur. But she was trying her best not to be petty. It wasn't working, but she was trying.

Gabriel cleared his throat. "Ligur, could I speak to you in private?"

Michael looked up and raised an eyebrow at them. She was always so put-together, her emotions somewhere deep down, if she had them at all. Unlike Hastur's whirlwind reactions. Did Ligur prefer that?

Fuck, now Hastur was upsetting herself. She'd even started to pick at the hem of her sleeve anxiously. She'd started that habit out of desperation for something to do besides bite at her own flesh, which made her husband distressed.

Michael wordlessly rolled up the blueprints and strode from the room, though Hastur had no doubt that she'd get the full story later on. She always did.

"I have something of importance to tell you," Gabriel said gravely, bringing Hastur back to the matter at present. "I'm not proud to tell you this, but I have to tell you the truth."

Hastur slipped behind Gabriel and started to try to tell Ligur what was going on, using some obscene and impromptu hand motions.

"Hastur and I have engaged in...relations. Of a sexual nature," Gabriel continued. "I'm so sorry for my part in this terrible adultery."

Hastur could tell that Ligur was trying desperately not to laugh.

She wandered up to her husband and looked at him with wide eyes. 

"Won't you forgive us?" She begged, going to her knees in front of him. She snickered under her breath, hoping that Gabriel would mistake it for sobbing.

Ligur looked down at her, his eyes flickering with an amused turquoise color. He pulled her up by her hands and pulled her to him, so she was plastered to his side, and she hid her smile in his neck.

"It's okay, doll," Ligur said to her. "It's clear that you were seduced by him."

"I didn't!" Gabriel protested.

"Look at you," Ligur said, "Playing the innocent angel while tempting my husband with your...angelic wiles!"

Hastur muffled her squeal of laughter with Ligur's dress shirt.

"Please," Gabriel begged, his voice sounding thin and reedy. "You've got to believe that I would never--."

"But you did. Tell me, did you enjoy fucking my husband? Did it make you feel good to seduce a demon's lover?"

"No, I--I didn't think--."

"Does the sanctity of marriage mean nothing to you?"

Hastur nearly passed out from stifling her giggles. Ligur was too good at this.

"Please, what can I do?" Gabriel's voice came out in a sob.

"Well," Ligur said. "I suppose we could come up with some way for you to make it up to us."

"Anything."

__

Gabriel was starting to think that he'd been too hasty with his promise to do anything. Maybe it was the way Hastur was gleefully running her hands down his corset, or maybe it was the way that Ligur was adjusting the skirt that barely covered his ass, but they were definitely enjoying this far too much.

"It's a maid's outfit," Hastur explained, tightening the laces on his corset a little more.

"What's a maid?" Gabriel asked, blushing as Ligur pulled his stockings up his legs and fastened them to his garter belt. Ligur's hands were brushing against his inner thighs, and Gabriel couldn't help the way his body reacted.

"Someone wot uses one of these," Hastur said, producing a feathery stick and shaking it in Gabriel's face. "It's a duster."

"And it's very dusty in hell," Ligur added, tying a bow at the back of Gabriel's waist. 

"So we desperately need a maid," Hastur agreed. 

"Especially in the throne room." Ligur pushed Gabriel down into a chair and grabbed his feet, slipping black high heels onto him. They matched his outfit, which was black and white, and very lacy. The only thing of his own they'd let him keep were his panties, which were silky and lavender, with subtle lace accents. Gabriel preferred his undergarments this way.

"So you'll have to start there." Hastur climbed into his lap and draped her arms over his shoulders. "You'll do a good job, won't you, angel boy?"

Gabriel could feel himself getting hard. "Hastur, your husband is right there."

"Yeah, he is." Hastur wriggled against him. She whispered into his ear, "Do you want him to touch you?"

"Hastur!" Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to remember how strong and skilled those hands had felt, dressing him up. "Isn't that...isn't that the whole reason I'm doing this? To make up for...stuff like that?"

"But you look so pretty. Doesn't he look pretty, Ligur?"

"Not as pretty as you," Ligur said, leaning down to kiss her, even as she was still in Gabriel's lap.

"Ligur," Hastur moaned. "You're supposed to play along."

"Anything for you," Ligur grinned. He kissed her again, deeper.

Gabriel couldn’t help shifting underneath Hastur as he watched them. Damn it, he was really getting hard now, and his skirt did nothing to hide it. He must be the worst angel ever, getting an erection while Hastur kissed her husband!

“Oh, did you want something?” Hastur asked him as they paused.

“What--what do you mean?”

“Feels like you want something,” Hastur said, teasingly. “Feels like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“I don’t know if we can allow that,” Ligur chimed in.

“Oh, c’mon,” Hastur said, speaking now to her husband. “Let me take him for a ride before we send him down? He can’t go down there like this anyway, dick flipping his skirt up. It ruins the look.”

“Please…” Gabriel added, not really knowing what he was asking for.

Ligur paused, and then pulled Hastur off Gabriel’s lap, kissing her and working a hand up her shirt. “Let me take care of him, doll. Then I’ll take care of you.”

“Ohhh...all right,” Hastur gasped.

Before Gabriel knew what was happening, Ligur had pulled him to his feet as well and bent him over the chair. It happened so quick that he didn't even have a chance to feel awkward standing in his heels. His panties were subsequently dragged down to the top of his thighs, and he felt a lubed finger start to work into him. He didn't know what it said about him that his first instinct was to open his legs to give Ligur easier access.

“What--what are you..?”

“Giving you some relief,” was Ligur’s answer, as he began to work him open. Ligur’s fingers were thick, and talented, and pressing into his entrance without too much difficulty despite the fact that this wasn't something Gabriel was experienced with.

But apparently Ligur knew what he was doing, because soon Gabriel was trying to push himself back onto Ligur’s slick fingers, moaning and feeling himself wetting the front of his panties.

“That’s your prostate, right there,” Ligur was saying. Gabriel was clenching around three fingers, now. He wanted to retort that he knew what a prostate was, thank you very much, only he couldn’t quite find the words. He felt sweat collecting at his hairline, threatening to drip down.

He tried to reach for his prick, when Hastur caught his wrist with her hand, her thin fingers gripping him tight. “Oh, no. You’re not running the show right now. Let him take care of you.”

Gabriel gasped as he felt the gentle but insistent movements inside him, pushing him quickly to the brink.

Between Hastur and Ligur, Gabriel was gaining sexual experience at the speed of light. And he happened to be made of light, partly.

"Come when you want to," Hastur said encouragingly, though she was still holding onto his wrist.

As it turned out, he didn't need his own hands when he had Ligur's on him, fingers in him, rubbing and massaging his insides until he reached completion. It was a different sort of feeling from when he'd been in bed with Hastur. 

He shuddered through his orgasm, his thighs shaking, his entrance quivering and clenching around the fingers he'd been fucked with.

"Never did that before," he murmured, feeling hazy as Ligur pulled his fingers out gently and cleaned them off. Well, Ligur cleaned off the front of him, anyway. His rear was left slick with lube, and before he could process anything else, he felt himself being penetrated again, this time with something incredibly smooth.

"What…?"

"It's only a plug," Hastur said. She was no longer grasping him, but her thumb was rubbing circles on his wrist as Ligur slid the plug inside him.

"A plug?"

"Keeps you nice and open." Ligur said, pulling him upright at last. "Keeps you ready."

"Ready for what?" 

Ligur straightened Gabriel's mussed hair but said nothing. He did lean in to kiss him on the cheek, however, which made Gabriel blush for whatever odd reason.

"These shoes are really uncomfortable," Gabriel pointed out. They were more uncomfortable than the plug currently pressed snugly inside of him.

"The trick is to fall flat on your face, first thing," Hastur said. "That way, whatever you do next, it can't be worse."

Ligur snickered at that and pulled Hastur to him. "Oh, so that was on purpose, the first time you wore heels?"

"...only wore 'em 'cause I thought they'd make my arse look good."

"It always looks good to me." Ligur leaned in to kiss her, full on the mouth.

Gabriel was starting to wonder if he could slip away unnoticed while they made out, when they finally broke apart and began dragging him to the escalator.

"Don't worry, they're expecting you," Hastur said ominously as she shoved him onto the down escalator. Ligur nodded, also ominously. They could both really bring out the ominousness on cue.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a near thing, and took a well-crafted miracle, but Gabriel did not, in fact, fall on his face. He made his way all the way down to the basement, clutching his duster like it was the Sword of the Spirit. His corset was a poor dupe for the Breastplate of Righteousness, but he'd have to make do.

It wasn't every day he made the trip down to Hell. In fact, it wasn't any day. He'd never been.

It should have been strange having the actual Dukes of Hell working upstairs on whatever special project Michael had wanted them for, but it wasn't. And the fact of the matter was, despite how long and desperately Gabriel had tried to put up walls between himself and the fallen, those walls had started to break down.

Maybe some part of him had believed that if he ever deigned to descend to Hell, She might decide to keep him there. She might decide that he looked more at home amongst the demons and lock him out of Heaven. And Gabriel, who had never felt secure in his position as an Archangel, couldn’t chance it.

Until now, when it seemed less and less likely that She even cared at all.

There was a long corridor when he got off the escalator. And, without any alternate path to take, he began walking down it. The corridor soon opened up into an even wider hallway, and he began to feel eyes on him from the shadows. It was even worse, when he considered his awkward gait and the way his stockings were rubbing up against his thighs, making his dick twitch with interest. The humiliation of starting to get hard again was almost too much to bear, as if he hadn’t just gotten off! 

The hallway opened up into an office, open plan, flickering lights over clusters of desks that looked near collapse under the strain of folders and forms they held. Demons that Gabriel didn’t recognize scuttled here and there, some of them sparing him more than a glance or two, but most occupied with their own business.

Dagon stared at him from across the room, her mouth twisting into a toothy smile. She plunked down the clipboard she was holding onto a shelf and approached him.

Gabriel tried his best to hide behind his feather duster. “Dagon. How are you?”

“Michael stole away two of the only demons who know how to fill out a Temptation C-453 Form, so, how do you think I’m doing?” Her scales glittered in the low light of the room.

“It’s only a temporary assignment,” Gabriel pointed out, feeling like he should stick up for Michael. Even though Michael never seemed to care what anyone said about her. How had she gotten approval to bring the Dukes upstairs in the first place? Gabriel hadn’t even questioned it.

Dagon began circling him, like a shark with her prey. “A temporary assignment with a need-to-know basis and unknown length of time. Forgive me if I’m a little doubtful. But that’s your thing, isn’t it?”

“Doubt?”

“Forgiveness.” Dagon slipped behind him and tugged his skirt upwards in the back. “What are you wearing?”

“Clothes?”

Dagon laughed. “Ligur called me. I already know everything, so it’s no good pretending.”

“What do you know, exactly?”

Dagon pulled on his corset strings, testing how well they were tightened, which was very well indeed. “They dressed you up like a doll, darling. And you let them.”

Gabriel felt his cheeks coloring. Did she have to say it like that? It was so much more embarrassing spelled out the way she did, matter-of-fact.

Dagon wandered back in front of him, flipping up the front of his skirt with the tip of a pen and tutting. “Is that a bottle of holy water in your panties, or are you just happy to be in Hell?”

“What?”

“I can’t just let you into the throne room without a thorough search, you know. You could be hiding something. This could all be a ruse.”

“...’m not.”

Just then, Eric wandered by, and Dagon grabbed him by his sleeve.

“Yes, my Lord of the Files?” Eric said, caught off guard.

“We seem to have an Archangel in our midst,” Dagon said, lifting her hand to tap Gabriel’s lip with the cap of her pen.

“Oh!” Eric eyed him with suspicion. “What’s one o’ them doing down here? And don’t we usually get Michael?”

"Usually, yes."

"Would be nice if we could upgrade our phones like Michael's always saying. I like her."

"We don't like angels," Dagon quickly pointed out to him. "We tolerate them. Barely. Even if some of them are exceptionally pretty."

Dagon looked Gabriel up and down, and he was reminded that he was still blushing.

“I’ll let you into the throne room. But first, bend over that desk right there.”

Gabriel did a double take, his violet eyes as wide as dinner plates. “...Dagon?”

“Nothing personal, but we don’t trust you,” Dagon said, echoing a common demonic phrase. Eric nodded, crossing his arms in an attempt to look intimidating. It was really too bad that he continued to look adorable, instead.

“It’s only for security, archangel,” Dagon pointed out when Gabriel made no move to go to the desk. “I was serious about smuggling holy water.”

“...Fine.” Gabriel bent over the desk as instructed, since it seemed to be the only way to move closer to ending this nightmare of a day. The sooner he was cleared, the sooner he could get to the throne room, complete his dusting, and leave.

“Legs apart,” Dagon ordered, and then there were hands on him. 

Dagon’s nails were long and neatly filed, and sent shivers along his skin as she trailed them along his thighs. It was a stark contrast to the way Hastur and Ligur’s blunt fingers had pressed into him.

“I’m not hiding anything,” Gabriel felt compelled to say as he felt another set of hands on him. These were Eric’s, and they felt along his back.

“You don’t have your phone on you?” Eric asked, sounding disappointed.

“Uh, no. Forgot it upstairs,” Gabriel admitted. He hadn’t even thought to bring it with him. It was Michael who had really latched on to the technology. It wasn’t as if Gabriel didn’t care for his phone, but he rarely thought of it.

“We really need an upgrade,” Eric continued, and Gabriel could tell that this was not directed at him.

“As if they care about us enough for that,” Dagon said, and Gabriel felt both sets of hands depart from their search on his body.

“Well, if only we could meet with Michael, perhaps--” Eric went on.

“Why d’you think I didn’t put up a fight over the Dukes leaving? Look, Eric, I know it’s slow-going, but we’re working on inter-office relations, and--”

“Pardon me, but are you done?” Gabriel asked, still in position while the two demons ignored him to talk about phone upgrades, of all things. He was bent over, exposed, and all those two cared about was...what? Emailing?

“Yes, yes,” Dagon quickly adjusted his clothing for him and pulled him upright. How was she so strong? 

“Can I go now?”

“Straight through there.” Dagon pointed in the direction of two heavy looking wooden doors. “Go on.”

Gabriel attempted to pull at his skirt to give himself some more coverage, but it was to no avail. Oh, well. He blundered on, wondering what else could happen to humiliate him further. He was starting to realize that this situation had been engineered for maximum embarrassment. 

He pushed at the doors, and they opened for him easily. Looking around, he stumbled forward. He was ungraceful, but thankfully still not in danger of falling. In fact, he might be getting the hang of wearing heels after all. The throne in front of him was intimidating, if a piece of furniture could be said to be intimidating. Tall and dark, and built with the Prince of Hell in mind. As he walked up to it, he heard the doors close behind him, and he startled.

He could see nothing behind him, but when he turned back to the throne, there was Lord Beelzebub, lounging and examining her nails.

“You should have knocked. Show some respect,” she said, as if she hadn’t appeared out of nowhere. Sure, that was kind of a _thing_ with demons, and angels of course, but Gabriel was rarely caught off guard by such an old standby.

He frowned, and walked up to the throne, and then quickly ducked behind it to start dusting. “I’d like to finish this as fast as I can. They need me back upstairs.”

“Do they?” Beelzebub appeared beside him and slid his duster from his grip, throwing it across the room.

“Please, I--,” Gabriel paused. “Once I do this, then I can leave. I can get out of your way.”

“That would be a shame, conszzidering how you’re wrapped up like a gift.” Beelzebub grabbed at the strings of his corset.

“That’s not _ribbon_.”

The distinction didn’t seem to matter to the Prince, who dragged him by those very strings to the front of her throne and positioned him over it. Gabriel wished he could say that he was getting tired of being bent over things, but there was a buzzing excitement that he was feeling, that he couldn’t pass off as simply being in a room with several flies.

Gabriel felt his skirt being pushed up, and suddenly realized Beelzebub’s intentions as she struck him with the palm of her hand, causing him to gasp audibly.

“What was that for?” Gabriel demanded.

“I expect better from you, archangel,” she said, hitting him again, and _hard_ , making Gabriel’s subsequent noises echo around the room.

“What--”

“Respect,” she clarified, and tugged his panties down, baring him before continuing the spanking.

Each smack landed heavy and brutal to his bare skin as he squirmed, and it wasn’t fair! He’d been put through so much already.

“Wait, please, I--”

Miraculously, Beelzebub paused, resting her hand on the top of his ass. “Yeszz?”

“Don’t you even want to know about the outfit?”

“What about it?”

“...It’s not what I imagined wearing for this.”

“Skirt or suit, makeszz no difference.” Beelzebub tapped him lightly on the ass. “You’re still you.”

“Oh.” Gabriel sighed, wincing a little from the pain in his rear. “Then, it’s not because of all...this. You really want me?”

Part of him wished he could see her face, see her reaction. He’d never asked her before. The effects of being humiliated all day long seemed to be that he now felt somewhat immune to further embarrassment. 

Beelzebub’s fingers had found the plug inside of him, and were now toying with the base of it.

“You’re asking me if I want you, Gabriel? You should know.”

He felt the plug slipping out of him, felt her fingers spreading him open, pushing his legs apart until she could step into the space between them.

So, the Prince of Hell was a being of very few words, and of those few words, even fewer were pretty or reassuring. But that was okay, wasn’t it? Gabriel could deal with that. He’d been waiting, waiting for her to say something. But she was never going to tell him in so many words, was she?

She pressed inside of him slowly, rocking her hips against him until she was fully within.

“I hoped that you wanted me,” Gabriel admitted, his voice soft as he spoke to the seat of the throne. “I was afraid to ask. Silly, right? I was afraid to come down here.”

He gasped as she thrust forward, and he gripped whatever part of the throne he could reach.

“I wasn’t only afraid of what She would do,” he said. “I was afraid what it would mean.”

“Head and heart full of feelingszz,” Beelzebub said, and if it was meant as an admonishment, it was only half-serious.

“Yeah.”

“Sentimental nonsense.” Beelzebub pulled out and, in a move that happened too fast for Gabriel to process, she turned him around and kissed him, deep.

“Yeah.” Gabriel smiled at her.

Beelzebub seated herself on the throne, then, pulling Gabriel on top of her, positioning him to take it from a different angle. Now Beelzebub was thrusting up into him, and it wasn’t long before he was coming again, again untouched.

“I do like the skirt,” Beelzebub said, fucking into him until she came, quietly shuddering until she was spent.

“Do you? It doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”

“Neither do your suitszz. They show off your ass, too.” She made no move to pull out of him, even as they sat there fitted together, the excitement of the moment waning.

Apparently, Gabriel had one last blush in him, and it came out, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, i actually finished something! *throws confetti*


End file.
